When I walk down the street, not everyone recognizes me. That is a relief.

People who _do_ know of my condition will often stare at me as I pass. Watching me as if I were a mutant freak.

I don’t know, I guess I could be.

If I’m ever wearing anything that shows skin, people will see the scars that I have. They give me similar looks, even if they don’t realize what they’re from.

What makes me so popular, and in a small degree famous, is the fact that I am cursed. I have the worst luck that any one person has ever had.

My curse has caused me to be the subject of multiple articles and news reports. Ones of me falling down a mountain due to my brand new equipment breaking, or having my home destroyed by an asteroid.

Yeah, that really happened.

The latest one is that I was struck by lightning and killed. And then struck again, which restarted my heart. So I “survived” and was struck by lightning twice.

Sucks to be me, that shit hurts.

The thing that started all of the attention though, was the most tragic misfortune of them all.

Both my parents were killed in a car crash. They were in the back seat, I was driving, and it was a head-on collision.

Tell me how that makes sense! How does that happen??

After that story, they labelled me as “The Luckiest Girl Alive.” What an uncredible stroke of luck to survive that when even the people in the back seat didn’t.

That wasn’t a stroke of luck. That was Luck pissing on me and having a laugh afterwards by keeping me alive.

I was intensive care for weeks after that, had to do physical therapy, and started going to a regular therapist.

Until I depressed him so bad that he killed himself.

I like to avoid people now. They always gawk and make big fusses over what I’ve been through. “Wow, how are you still alive?” I normally leave after that one.

Not to mention that when anyone else is introduced to my curse, they don’t live through it like I always seem to.

I despise the attention that my curse gets. I despise my curse as well.

It never ends. I’ve survived jumping off a building. It hurt like hell and I was broken pretty much everywhere, but I survived.

I’ve been hit by a bus, two cars, had rabies because of an animal bite, been bitten by three venomous animals, stepped on four different nails - two of which were rusty and I had to have a tetanus shot.

The list just goes on and on.

Once, when I was a kid, I was playing near an old shed. One of the windows was broken, so in all of my 5 or 6 year old wisdom I was taking the broken chunks of glass and setting them on a large rock nearby. Then, I would grab smaller rocks and chuck them at the glass.

I assume it was to watch it shatter, I don’t know why else I’d do that. Anyways, I threw a rock at one particular piece and it shattered more than the rest I guess. One of the pieces of glass flew at my face and I shielded my face with my arms.

I don’t actually remember anything that happened after that. No idea who found me, who helped me, if I cried, the hospital, recovering… anything. I just know that I have a scar on my wrist from that day.

That _is_ one moment that I’ll say I was hella lucky, because it didn’t hit any of my veins, despite being super close to them.

I think. Can’t remember and my folks are gone.

I do remember my parents always telling me that I was extremely accident prone, so I guess I’ve been like this forever.

By the time I was three I’d broken two bones and had to have surgery. Not sure what the surgery was for, I always forget that one.

I think that when I was younger, I really was lucky. Some of the shit that happened was _so_ close to being bad.

When I was maybe one, I ended up getting a pencil in my eye. They say that I pulled it out myself but the lead stayed in and I had to go to the hospital. Anymore to the right or left, and I would’ve been blind in that eye.

That’s lucky as hell.

But eventually, my luck morphed into something else. Something… dangerous and cruel.

Almost as if Luck got sick if dealling with me, and started throwing a twist on everything to show me that it was sick of me.

I’m getting pretty sick of me too. Extra sick of seeing myself on the news or reading about me.

Maybe one day my luck will run out and the curse will be broken. Or maybe I’ll live past the average life expectancy.

Nothing phases or suprises me much anymore, so I guess we’ll see.